


Taste of Regret

by DeathBelle



Series: Burden of Blame [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Huge spoilers for Burden of Blame, Love makes people stupid, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Suna has made a lot of mistakes.Osamu was never one of them.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Burden of Blame [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929460
Comments: 96
Kudos: 1286





	Taste of Regret

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [后悔的滋味](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732266) by [Yening](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yening/pseuds/Yening)



> This takes place directly after Chapter 13 of Burden of Blame. There are serious spoilers, so if you read this before finishing that fic, it will ruin the ending for you. But hey, if you don't plan to read that one ever, then go ahead. 💜

It was raining when Suna arrived in Miyagi, but he hardly noticed. It wasn’t the first thing on his mind, or the second or the third. It wasn’t on his mind at all. He tilted his face up into the rain, blinked it out of his eyelashes, and studied the tall column of the hotel. 

It wasn’t his first time in Sendai. He’d been there many times, most recently when he’d escorted Osamu from Hyogo. Suna was well-traveled, and those travels were rarely for pleasure. It was always work, always secret, always something he kept close to his chest for fear it would be wrenched away and used to cut his throat. He never told anyone where he’d been.

Except for Osamu. He’d told Osamu everything, once he’d worked up the courage to tell him anything at all. 

The hotel entrance was beneath a wooden overhang, the way lit by glowing lanterns. It was warm and welcoming, and Suna turned his back on it to slog around the side of the building. 

He thought of Atsumu, locked up in Meian’s secret apartment, safe and secure. He wished Osamu was somewhere like that instead of a low-security hotel. Even better, he wished Osamu was even further away than Sendai; Hokkaido would be nice, or maybe out of the country entirely.

He was probably safe. Unlike Atsumu, he hadn’t been drawing attention to himself. He hadn’t been placed in Tokyo, where Suna thought the hit may have originated.

Osamu was probably safe, but probably wasn’t good enough.

The rear of the hotel wasn’t as inviting as the front. It was plain walls bordered by a stretch of asphalt, and Suna paced along until he found a locked service door labeled “Employees Only”. Suna crouched, dug in his pocket for his lockpick, and went to work. He tripped it in thirty seconds flat, and as he eased the door inward, he paused to listen. It was quiet. Suna slipped inside, nudged the door shut, and relocked it. He wiped rain out of his eyes as he studied the room. Equipment lined the walls. Suna could have recognized most of it if he’d tried, but he didn’t. He passed through a door, and then another one, until he located a stairwell that was clearly not intended for guest use. It was dirty and narrow and badly ventilated, and Suna was grateful for it as he climbed the stairs.

He could’ve gone through the front door. No one would have stopped him, and even if word got back to Sawamura that he was there, it wouldn’t be a problem. He’d met Sawamura already, when Osamu had first arrived. Suna had introduced himself only as one of Kita’s men, sparing the details of his relationship with Osamu, but still it wouldn’t have been suspicious for him to come back. It wouldn’t have mattered.

But if word got to Sawamura then it would get to Kita too, and Suna didn’t want Kita to know he was here. He didn’t want Kita to know a lot of things.

Osamu was on the third floor, at the furthest end of the hall. Suna kept his pace slow, controlled, and denied the urge to sprint. There was a large paper bag next to the door, filled to the brim with empty takeout boxes. Despite the tension weighing heavy in Suna’s bones, he smiled. He tried the door first, to make sure Osamu was locked in, and then knocked; two quick raps, followed by three more.

The lock clicked, the door swung inward, and Osamu appeared, dressed in lounge pants and a loosely tied hotel robe, his eyes sparking. If Suna hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought Osamu was a rich CEO enjoying a week of luxury rather than a man on the run.

Suna’s tension settled, bleeding out of him as Osamu caught his wrist and pulled him inside. The door shut behind him and Osamu engaged the lock, frowning at Suna over his shoulder.

“You’re drippin’ wet, Rin. What were you doin’, tryin’ to drown yourself in the rain?”

Suna realized then that his hair was weeping down the back of his neck, but it was only a fleeting thought. He was too focused on Osamu, on the heat of his hand as it wrapped around Suna’s, on the familiar hitch of his accent that was annoying on anyone else’s tongue but felt like home on Osamu’s.

“Hey, somethin’ wrong?” Osamu squeezed Suna’s hand, reached up to push wet hair off of his forehead. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Suna. It was true in this context, at least. Now that he was with Osamu, he was great. This visit was the best he would be for a long time. As soon as he left, things would be terrible again; worse than terrible, if his suspicions about the hit on the Miyas turned out to be true. 

But that didn’t matter, not tonight. Suna wouldn’t let himself think about that. He would deal with it tomorrow. Everything could wait until tomorrow.

“Shit, you’re soaked down to your shirt.” Osamu peeled open one flap of Suna’s jacket. “Take this off and hang it up to dry. I’ll get you somethin’ else to wear.” He stepped away and Suna watched him go. He took a sweep of the room – compact but not cramped, a low table on one side and a well-padded futon piled with pillows on the other, a half-open door that gave a glimpse of a bathroom beyond – before returning his attention to the width of Osamu’s shoulders as he yanked open a wardrobe and pawed through the clothes inside. It was completely disorganized, just like the one in Osamu’s bedroom back home. Suna had never thought he would miss that, but he did.

Suna stripped off his jacket and hung it on the bronze hook by the door. His guns were wet, too; not doused, but certainly not dry. He unbuckled the holster and let it fall away from his shoulders, hanging it carefully on the hook beside his jacket. 

“Ya ever heard of an umbrella?” asked Osamu, as he returned. A pair of sweatpants was slung over his shoulder. He reached for Suna and added, “Might wanna invest in one.”

“I’d rather get rained on if it means you’ll strip me down.”

Osamu paused with one of Suna’s shirt buttons pinched between his fingers. “Didja do this on purpose?”

“No, but I will next time.”

Osamu rolled his eyes and worked his way through the rest of the buttons. He peeled the shirt off and said, “I’ll hang it up in the bathroom and get ya a towel. Don’t move, you’ll drip everywhere.”

Suna bit back a sarcastic comment and watched him go. Again he thought about Atsumu, and about Osamu’s frantic phone calls when he’d heard his brother had been shot, and about the careful way Atsumu had moved back at Meian’s apartment, wincing every time he stood or sat. 

That could’ve been Osamu, so easily. Suna could have lost him.

“Here.” Osamu dropped a towel around Suna’s shoulders and held out the sweatpants. “Change into these. I’ll make some tea, you’re shiverin’.”

Suna looked down at the towel and the sweatpants and then himself, his hands more unsteady than he’d realized. He wondered if he was cold. Maybe he was. He was too numb to know for sure. He took off his slacks, kicked them aside, and after a moment of consideration stripped off his underwear, too. They weren’t soaked through, but they were damp enough that he couldn’t be entirely dry if he left them on. He pulled on Osamu’s sweatpants and scrubbed his hair with the towel as he moved further into the room. The lights were low and the curtains were closed but somehow it still had an ambiance of warmth. Maybe that was just Osamu, and the rising scent of chamomile, and the heat of the mug when Osamu pushed it into his hand.

“Sit down, Rin. You’re bein’ weird.”

Suna released a breath and did as he said, sinking cross-legged at the edge of the table. There were a few discarded packets of soy sauce and a pair of unused chopsticks, probably left over from Osamu’s dinner.

“You hungry? I can order somethin’.”

“No. I’m fine.”

Osamu sat next to him, close enough that their knees touched. “What’s wrong with ya? Is ‘Tsumu okay?”

“He’s good. Better than expected, actually. He’s healing up just fine, and Sakusa is taking good care of him.” Suna took a sip of tea, and only when it trickled warm down his throat did he realize he’d been cold after all. “The sexual tension was unbelievable. I don’t think they’ve fucked yet but I give it three days. Probably less.”

Osamu made a face and shifted closer to pull the towel off of Suna’s shoulders. “Gross. I knew the idiot talked about Sakusa too much but I didn’t wanna think about it.” He pushed himself up and disappeared into the bathroom, only to return a minute later with a fresh towel. He knelt behind Suna and used it to dry his hair, mopping up rainwater. “What’s Sakusa like? Is he awful? Please tell me he’s ugly.”

Suna tilted his head back and closed his eyes as Osamu carefully rubbed at his temples. “Sure, he’s ugly.”

“Liar.”

Suna breathed a laugh and lowered his head to take another drink of tea. Osamu tossed the towel away and slipped his arms around Suna’s waist, pressing flush against his back, his chin hooked on Suna’s shoulder. 

“Rin?” His voice was close to Suna’s ear, low and deep and so familiar that Suna’s chest ached.

Suna didn’t even complain about Osamu’s chin digging into him. He didn’t mind at all. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

Osamu’s voice rumbled against Suna’s back. “Don’t lie to me.”

Suna sighed and leaned into him. Osamu was warm, his body and his breath and his voice. “It’s good to see you, ‘Samu. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Osamu pressed a kiss to Suna’s bare shoulder. “You’ve still gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

“I will,” said Suna, “when I get back to Tokyo. Not tonight.”

“Rin-”

“It might be nothing.” Suna layered his hand on top of Osamu’s, resting near Suna’s ribs. “I don’t want you to worry about it until I’m sure it’s something to worry about.”

Osamu was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t a silence of agreement. It was one of thought. Eventually he said, resigned, “They’re not after ‘Tsumu.”

Suna wanted to deny it, partly because he didn’t want Osamu to worry, and partly because he didn’t want to believe it himself. But Osamu knew him well enough to see through his lies, all of them, even when no one else could. “I don’t think they are.”

Osamu rested his forehead against Suna’s shoulder and held him more tightly. “Why?”

“I don’t know for sure. I’m looking into it.”

“Rin.”

“I have a theory, but I don’t like it, and I could be wrong. I’m not saying anything until I know for sure.” 

Osamu’s arms pulled away, and Suna’s stomach sank. He’d been afraid it would come down to this. Osamu didn’t like secrets and Suna didn’t keep them from him, not anymore, but this was different. He wouldn’t tell him, not yet, not until he could pair the problem with a solution.

Osamu rose, and Suna waited for the cold sting that came with his anger. 

But Osamu only extended a hand, and after a slight hesitation, Suna put his tea aside and took it. Osamu hoisted him to his feet and pulled him in, arms thick and solid around Suna’s waist, stubble scratching against Suna’s jaw as Osamu left a kiss against his cheek. “You make me crazy, ya know that?” said Osamu. Suna gripped the back of Osamu’s robe, breathed in the fresh smell of it, and said nothing. “You can tell me anything, Rin. If I fucked up, I wanna know what I did.”

Suna’s throat was tight. He didn’t want to talk about this, especially not now, the first time he’d seen Osamu in three months. Their reunion should have been smiles and touches and comfort. They deserved that, for what they’d been through. 

Osamu did, at least. Suna was beginning to think he didn’t deserve Osamu at all.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, ‘Samu,” he said quietly. Osamu tried to pull back, probably to look at him, but Suna held on tight, face buried in Osamu’s shoulder. “Atsumu didn’t, either. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Then what-”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t. Please let it go, just for tonight. Let me have tonight.”

Osamu held him tighter before pulling back again, and this time Suna let him. Osamu’s hands settled on his waist, his stare assessing as he met Suna’s eyes.

Osamu was different than he’d been back in Hyogo. His face was fuller, yet something about it was shaded, almost shuttered. His hair was trimmed shorter, probably to clip off the last of the gray. It was dark now, natural for the first time since Suna had known him. He was different, but the steadiness of his gaze was the same, and so was the heat of his breath on Suna’s lips, and the taste of his mouth when they kissed.

Suna sighed and sank into it, and he felt as if three months of worries had suddenly been scrubbed away. This was what he’d needed, every single day since Osamu left. Suna had been stressed and short-tempered and constantly uneasy, and all he’d needed was this.

“Let’s go to bed,” said Osamu, the words quiet against Suna’s lips. 

It couldn’t have been any later than five p.m., but Suna didn’t argue as Osamu turned out the lights, leaving only one softly glowing lamp. Suna let Osamu take his hand and lead him to the futon, where they stretched out among the rumpled blankets and plump pillows. Suna laid on his side to face Osamu, who mirrored him. Osamu reached for Suna’s hand and linked their fingers together. He didn’t look away from Suna’s face, his stare calm and heavy and comforting.

“I love you,” said Osamu, his voice low. “You know that, yeah? No matter what.”

Suna felt as if someone had reached into his chest and twisted his heart in their fist. 

Osamu knew. Suna hadn’t wanted this, not tonight, but Osamu knew.

Suna tried to pull his hand away but Osamu’s fingers squeezed tight, trapping it. “I’m sorry, ‘Samu. I’m really sorry. I did this. You got shot, and Atsumu, and it’s because of me.”

“It’s not your fault, Rin.”

“Of course it is.” Suna yanked harder and his hand slipped away from Osamu’s. “I fucked up. I should’ve known this would happen. It was fine when I was on my own, because if someone wanted to come after me, it would just be me. But now it’s you too, and I didn’t think it would come to this. I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have…”

Osamu waited for him to finish, but Suna didn’t know what to say. He pushed himself half-upright, his weight on his palms and a heavier one on his chest. 

“Shouldn’t have got involved with me?” asked Osamu, watching him.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you would’ve said, if you’d kept talkin’.”

Suna hunched over his knees, head down, staring blankly at his hands. His fingers were badly scarred, some on the outside across his knuckles, mostly on the inside over his palms. Hardly anyone noticed, but Osamu’s eyes had darted directly to Suna’s hands the first time they’d met, although he hadn’t asked. He never had, even when they’d known each other for a while, even when they’d hooked up the first time and those scarred hands had been all over him. Osamu had always respected Suna’s privacy, even before they were together. It was one of the reasons Suna liked him, one of the reasons he’d trusted Osamu enough to tell him everything about himself.

“They’re trying to kill you because of me, ‘Samu. Because of a job I did.” Suna clenched his hands into fists. “They almost got you, and Atsumu, too. He almost died because of me.”

“Bullshit.” Osamu pushed himself up, rested a hand on Suna’s thigh. “He almost died ‘cause some asshole out there has a death wish. We’ll take care of ‘im.”

“You’re not listening.” Suna grabbed Osamu’s hand, intending to shove it away, but he curled his fingers around it instead. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to let someone this close, to let himself be vulnerable. He couldn’t do that around anyone else. “If I hadn’t taken the job, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Didja know that when you did it?”

“Of course not, I wouldn’t have-”

“Then stop blamin’ yourself. You were just workin’. You couldn’t’ve known somethin’ like this would happen.”

Heat seared the backs of Suna’s eyes. He squeezed them shut. “I shouldn’t have done the jobs at all. Any of them. I knew from the beginning it would get me into trouble, I just thought… I always thought it would only be me, so it didn’t matter. If someone wants to kill me, they can try. I don’t care. Maybe I wanted them to try, back then. But you…”

Suna had almost died more times than he could count, but he’d never minded. Most of those times had been from his own intentional recklessness, because he always felt empty unless he was full of near-death adrenaline.

But that was before he had Osamu. He felt things now; things softer and less lethal, but also things that tore right through his heart like carnivorous teeth.

“Rin, look at me.”

Suna kept his head down and his eyes shut and tried to breathe around the hitch in his chest.

“Rintarou.” Osamu’s hand was warm on Suna’s jaw. He coaxed his face up, and a brush of lips landed at the corner of Suna’s mouth. “Shit goes wrong sometimes. You didn’t know. Now that you’ve figured out what happened, we can fix it. I’m alive. I’m fine. So’s ‘Tsumu. We all got through it, alright?”

Suna opened his eyes, slowly. Osamu was close, his eyes dark, his choppy hair falling onto his forehead. He looked at Suna with trust, with love, with a complete lack of malice.

Osamu didn’t realize what this meant, what would happen in the end. He hadn’t thought it through, and that was for the best.

Because Kita would find out about this sooner than later, and when he did, Suna wouldn’t be part of Inarizaki anymore. He didn’t think he’d exist anymore. The longer he could keep Osamu from realizing that, the better.

“I’m sorry, ‘Samu.” The apology was for what had happened already, but also for what would happen soon. Suna was sorry for getting Osamu into this, sorry he got hurt, sorry it would end badly for one of them. 

He was sorry he wouldn’t be with Osamu forever, the way he’d promised.

“You don’t have to be. ‘M not mad about it. ‘Tsumu won’t be either, when he understands.”

Suna thought he was wrong about that, very wrong. Atsumu wouldn’t let this go, not that easily. There was only one thing that Miya Atsumu cared about more than himself, and that was his brother. When he found out this was Suna’s fault, there might be no need for Kita. It was possible Atsumu would kill Suna himself.

Suna pressed his hand over Osamu’s, still curled at his jaw. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know that, too.” Osamu kissed him, slow and gentle. When he pulled back Suna chased his mouth, twisting closer into him. He braced a hand against Osamu’s chest, pushed, and followed Osamu down as he laid back. Suna was flush against him, elbows digging into the futon, legs interlaced with Osamu’s.

Suna didn’t know how much time they would have together after tonight. Maybe none. It might be the last time they saw each other. Even if it wasn’t, their next meeting wouldn’t be like this. It was the last chance Suna had to be with him, the last time before there was a death sentence slicing toward his neck like a guillotine.

Maybe Suna didn’t deserve one last night with Osamu, but he was taking it anyway. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted Osamu, had never loved anyone as much. 

He didn’t want to leave him.

“Rin, it’s okay.” Osamu cupped Suna’s face in both hands, rubbed his thumbs gently beneath Suna’s eyes. “Everything’s fine. I’m okay. Great, actually, now that you’re here.”

Suna blinked away the beads of moisture clinging to his eyelashes. He blamed the rain. “Yeah. Okay. Kiss me.”

“If you insist.” Osamu raised his head to catch Suna’s mouth, this kiss dragging longer than the last. Osamu’s hands sank into Suna’s hair, lightly curling, as he tilted his head to kiss him deeper. 

Suna pushed up on his knees to get some space between them, his head still down, mouth not leaving Osamu’s. He touched Osamu’s waist, felt for the knot of the robe, and tugged at it blindly until it unraveled. He slid a hand beneath it to touch Osamu’s stomach, his ribs, his chest. He was warm, like the comfort of home on a cold winter night.

“Rin,” said Osamu, as Suna dipped down to kiss Osamu’s throat. “You wouldn’t believe how much I missed ya.”

Suna sucked at Osamu’s neck, lightly. “I think I would.”

Osamu’s hands found Suna’s waist, fingertips slipping beneath the band of his borrowed sweatpants. “When we get back home I’m never leavin’ again. You can move in with me. I don’t wanna spend another night without you.”

Suna’s next inhale came with a spike of pain, straight to his chest. He pressed another kiss against Osamu’s throat, then one at his collarbone, keeping his face hidden so Osamu wouldn’t see the wince of regret. “Atsumu won’t like that.”

“I don’t care what he likes.”

Suna slipped both hands beneath the flaps of Osamu’s robe and pushed it open. Osamu sat up a little, just enough to work it off of his shoulders and toss the robe onto the floor. He sank back again and Suna perched over him on his knees, hands splayed on Osamu’s stomach, one framing bare skin and the other shaping a silhouette against dark ink. The tattoos painted him from shoulder to hip, long strokes of black and gray cutting behind a fiercely fanged foo dog. There was another on his back to complete the pair; Suna had seen it hundreds of times, and he only wished he could see it a hundred more. 

Osamu had gained weight since he’d been in Miyagi. Suna had known that the moment he’d opened the hotel door. He was thicker beneath Suna, his stomach softer under his hands, but it didn’t matter. Osamu was stable and strong and everything Suna had ever wanted.

Suna traced the edge of the tattoo up until he reached Osamu’s shoulder. The scar was ugly. Suna’s gut swooped with nausea as he remembered what had put it there.

His fault. That had been his fault.

“Stop it,” said Osamu, his voice soft as he caught Suna’s wrist and peeled his hand away. “It’s fine now.”

“Does it still hurt?” asked Suna.

“Nah.” Osamu rolled his shoulder, as if proving his point. “It’s tighter than it used to be. Can’t reach behind my back on that side anymore, but I don’t need to. I’m alright. Really.”

“I’m sorry, ‘Samu.”

“If you apologize one more time I’m not gonna kiss you anymore, Sunarin.”

Suna smiled despite himself. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise. I mean it.”

Suna sank back down to his elbows. He kissed Osamu’s chest and peered up at him with a subdued smirk. “I’m sorry, ‘Samu.”

“I swear-”

“I’m sorry you had to go all this time without me. That must’ve been hard for you. I don’t know how you survived, honestly.” He kissed Osamu’s shoulder, right beside the scar. 

Osamu watched him through narrow eyes. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice, Rin.”

Suna laughed, low and breathy, and leaned in for Osamu’s mouth. As expected, Osamu kissed him back, despite the threat.

Suna thought maybe he could pretend nothing was wrong, at least for a little while, at least for tonight.

Suna touched his tongue to Osamu’s bottom lip and licked deeper when Osamu opened his mouth. Osamu matched him, pushing up into the kiss, hands resettling on Suna’s hips.

Osamu took one more taste of Suna’s mouth, and when he pulled back, said, “You wanna?”

“After I came all the way out here?” said Suna, sitting up again. “We’d fucking better.”

Osamu smiled at him, soft and happy, and it was like an arrow through Suna’s heart. 

Osamu rolled onto his side to dig around underneath a pillow. When he emerged, it was with a bottle of lube tucked in his fist.

Suna raised an eyebrow. “Do you just lay here and jerk off all day or have you had other visitors?”

“It’s boring here, what else am I s’posed to do?”

“I don’t know. Crossword puzzles?”

Osamu snorted. “I got it ‘cause you were comin’. Had to ask one of the Karasuno guys to pick it up for me, since I’m not s’posed to leave. He got real awkward about it. Don’t know what he thinks I was plannin’ to do in here.”

“Maybe he thought it was an invitation.”

“Well it wasn’t. He’s got nothin’ on you.” Osamu propped himself up on his elbows, still looking up at Suna. “How do you wanna do it?”

Suna crawled off of Osamu and rolled onto his back to kick off his pants. It was answer enough.

“I dunno,” said Osamu, as he pushed onto his side to face Suna. He popped open the cap of the lube and smeared it over his fingers. “I got lazy from layin’ around here so long. Might not be any good at fuckin’ now.”

“Guess I’ll find someone else, then. One of your new Karasuno friends might be into it.”

Osamu’s nose wrinkled and Suna breathed a laugh, letting his legs fall open. Osamu eased closer, his knee bumping against Suna’s thigh, the curve of a smile touching his mouth. He knew Suna was joking. Osamu was the only one Suna wanted, and he’d told him that plenty of times.

“Touch yourself?” asked Osamu, as he dipped a hand between Suna’s legs. “I wanna see.”

“Of course you do.” Suna bent one knee, to give Osamu better access, and wrapped a hand around his own cock. It was mostly soft, and he gave a few quick pulls that were too dry. “Give me some lube.”

Osamu sat up, a little awkwardly since one of his hands was occupied, and dripped some into Suna’s hand. He settled back, and this time when Suna gripped himself, it was a much smoother stroke. He sighed, laid back, and spread his legs wider as Osamu’s fingers pressed against him.

Suna let his head fall to the side to watch Osamu, who was completely fixated on the pull of Suna’s hand. Two of his fingers breached Suna, sliding in slowly, and Suna relaxed into it.

“You could blink, you know,” said Suna, tracing the length of his own cock. “It would make you seem like less of a pervert.”

Osamu dragged his eyes to Suna’s face. His pupils were blown, dark against dark. “Am I botherin’ ya?”

“Yes,” said Suna flatly. “I’m very uncomfortable when you look at me, ‘Samu. Close your eyes or we’re stopping.”

Osamu’s mouth tilted up on one side. He ducked his head to kiss Suna’s shoulder, his fingers nudging in deeper. “I can’t help you’re gorgeous, Rin. I just like watchin’ ya.”

“I know. I’m very aware of your kinks.”

Osamu hummed. His tongue darted out to taste Suna’s shoulder before he raised his head again. “My only kink is you.”

“Wow. Romance really is alive.”

“Livin’ in isolation made me soft. I almost asked Yamaguchi to get some roses too, but I thought that might be too much after the lube.”

“Priorities.” Suna sucked in a breath and arched as Osamu pushed in deep. “Right there, ‘Samu.”

“I know. It hasn’t been  _ that _ long.” Osamu tilted his head to burrow against Suna’s neck, kissing and licking as he rocked his fingertips against Suna’s prostate. Suna’s hips kicked up to rut against Osamu’s hand, riding his fingers, chasing the feeling. When Osamu eventually pulled out, Suna was already hot and breathless and a little bit desperate.

“Gorgeous,” repeated Osamu. He planted his hands on either side of Suna’s ribs, a knee pressing between his thighs, and dipped his head for a kiss. Suna hummed against his mouth, licked into it and curled their tongues together. His hand was still on his own cock, moving in slow pumps, until Osamu pulled it away and pinned Suna’s wrist down. 

“What?” said Suna. He reached for himself with his other hand, but Osamu caught that one, too. Suna was underneath Osamu, his hands trapped, hot breath rasping against his jaw. He raised his hips, his cock nudging against Osamu’s stomach. “I thought you like when I touch myself.” 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.” Osamu kissed Suna’s jaw, rolled his hips down to rub their cocks together. “I just don’t think you should get to have all the fun.” Osamu pushed their hands over Suna’s head, pinned both of Suna’s wrists in one hand, and reached between them with the other. He circled his fingers around their cocks, stroked a few times, and said, “Maybe I wanna touch you, too.”

“Touch me, then.” Suna rocked up against his hand, just as Osamu let go. “I’ve waited for  _ months _ .”

Osamu pressed his face against Suna’s neck. The quirk of his lips felt like he was smiling. “I love you, Rin. So fuckin’ much.”

A surge of emotion hit Suna, hot and sudden. He swallowed, fought it back, and said, as casually as he could, “If you love me then stop teasing me.”

Osamu’s smile pulled wider. He pushed himself up, still pinning Suna’s wrists, and reached down to grip the base of his cock. “If you know all my kinks, I know all yours, too. You like bein’ teased.”

“Maybe when it hasn’t been so long since you’ve touched me,” said Suna. He spread his legs wide and hooked one ankle around the back of Osamu’s thigh. “Right now it’s just cruel.”

Osamu tapped his cock against Suna’s. Both of them were solid. “Don’t look cruel to me. Looks like you’re enjoyin’ yourself.”

Suna dug his ankle into Osamu’s thigh. “Don’t make me get myself off, ‘Samu. I’ll do it.”

Osamu laughed, low and rough and syrupy sweet. Suna hadn’t heard that laugh in far too long. “Fine.” He dragged the head of his cock against Suna’s entrance, smearing it in lube, lingering for so long that Suna knew he was doing it on purpose. 

Suna fidgeted against the shackle of Osamu’s hand, started to protest, but bit the words back as Osamu gave a slow, steady roll of his hips and thrust into him. He was hard and thick and Suna gasped as Osamu pushed deeper, stretching him open, filling him.

Osamu moaned deep in his chest, his head hanging heavy, an exhale touching Suna’s cheek. He braced his free hand and thrust in again, and this time it was Suna’s voice that rose between them, a flutter of a groan between his lips until Osamu dipped his tongue between them and licked it away.

“You feel so good,” said Osamu, the words half-lost against Suna’s mouth. “You always feel so fuckin’ good.”

Suna hooked his free leg at Osamu’s lower back, dragging him closer. “I missed you, ‘Samu.”

“Yeah. You too. So much.” Osamu rocked into him, urged forward by the heel digging into his spine, and this time he didn’t pause. He rolled his hips in a rhythm, long smooth thrusts that had Suna’s head falling back, eyes fluttering closed, a low sound panting out of his throat with every exhale. 

Suna knew he’d existed before he was with Osamu. He’d lived his own life, he’d done great for himself, and he’d never felt like he was missing anything at all.

But now that he knew, Suna couldn’t live without him. He wouldn’t. 

That shouldn’t be difficult. Suna didn’t think he had long to live, anyway.

“Fuck.” The curse was at himself, for letting his thoughts drift there; but it was also for the way Osamu thrust into him, hitting him in just the right spot, making him twitch and tighten around Osamu’s cock. Suna yanked at his wrists, but Osamu’s grip was steel. “’Samu. Let go.”

Osamu did, immediately. There was a question in the part of his lips, but Suna seized a handful of dark hair and yanked him down, his mouth stinging from the force of the kiss.

“’ _ Samu _ .” Suna moaned the name, tugged at Osamu’s hair, arched his back to create a better angle. “More. Give me more.”

“Yeah, whatever ya need. Anything.” The kiss was deep and filthy and everything Suna could have wanted. Osamu fucked into him, and each thrust pushed Suna closer. Osamu sucked at Suna’s neck and rasped into his ear, “I love feelin’ ya, Rin.”

Suna hissed a breath through his teeth. He reached for his own cock but Osamu got there first, his fist loose at first before gripping firm. He stroked, the snap of his wrist hard and quick, Suna bucking into the contact as Osamu fucked into him. Osamu moaned against Suan’s throat, low and muffled and dirty. Suna choked on his own moan as he came, shooting hot come between Osamu’s fingers and onto his own stomach. He rocked himself back against Osamu’s cock as he rode it out, gasping for breath and spitting fragments of “Yes” and “Fuck” and “’ _ Samu _ ”.

Osamu’s teeth dug into his collarbone and his cock pulsed inside of Suna, filling him with heat. Osamu gave him a few last, lingering strokes until it was too much, until Suna winced at the touch. Suna mumbled a groan and Osamu pulled out of him, his cock flushed and shiny with his own come. It dripped out of Suna and soaked into the blanket underneath them.

“Fuck.” Osamu kissed Suna’s collarbone exactly where he’d bitten him. He ran a hand up Suna’s side, lightly, and stretched up to kiss his mouth. “I don’t know how I’ve been livin’ without ya.”

“Watching a lot of porn, probably,” said Suna.

Osamu rolled off of him but didn’t go far. He laid out on his side, his chest against Suna’s arm, still kissing whatever he could reach: Suna’s bicep, and his shoulder, and the sword-pierced skull inked into his chest, the  _ hikae _ he’d gotten years ago, before he’d even known Osamu. Suna breathed a sigh and floated on the feeling of it, the peace that he only tasted when they drifted down together.

“I love you,” said Osamu. It was probably the fourth time he’d said it since Suna had gotten there, but it was so genuine that it almost hurt.

“I love you too, ‘Samu. I really do.” Really, because in the past when he’d said it to anyone else, it had always been a lie.

“You wanna take a bath? I’ll run one for us. I think we’ll both fit.”

“Yeah, okay. Only if you’ll wash me. I’m too tired to do it myself.”

“Deal.” Osamu pressed a kiss against the side of Suna’s head and pulled away. He stood and headed toward the half-open door at the far side of the room. Suna watched him go through half-lidded eyes. The foo dog inked onto Osamu’s back was nearly identical to the one on his chest. It watched him with open, empty eyes until Osamu stepped through the doorway.

The sound of running water filtered into the room. Suna noticed in a distant sort of way. It didn’t register completely until Osamu touched his shoulder, gently shaking him out of his doze. “C’mon, get up. You’re startin’ to get crusty.”

“Whose fault is that?” mumbled Suna, even as he pushed himself upright. Osamu touched Suna’s back as they crossed the room, at his shoulderblade and then lower, fingers tracing Suna’s spine. 

Suna had seen the bathtub several times through his phone screen – sometimes during a casual chat, sometimes for less innocent reasons – but seeing it couldn’t replicate the way he felt when he sank into the water. It lapped at his chest, hot nearly to the point of scalding. He leaned his head against the edge and sighed, more relaxed than he’d been in months. 

Osamu threaded a hand through the back of Suna’s hair. “Move up and make room. You’re hoggin’ it.”

Suna would have preferred to never move for the rest of his life, but he scraped up the energy to ease forward, bent knees peeking out of the water. Osamu stepped in behind him and sank down, sending a wave over the edge to patter onto the tile. He wrapped his arms around Suna’s waist to pull him in and Suna went willingly, leaning back against Osamu’s bare chest, his head resting on a broad shoulder as sturdy thighs pressed close on either side of him.

Suna wished he could exist in this exact moment forever. He didn’t want to see tomorrow, or the next day, or anything further. Nothing would ever be as good as right now. This was perfect. This was everything he could ever need.

Maybe they could run away together, when all of this was over. When Suna flushed out the hit and killed who needed to be killed, he and Osamu could go to Hokkaido or Fukuoka or farther; maybe Italy, maybe New Zealand, literally anywhere but here. They could get out and start fresh and never worry about Inarizaki again.

Maybe Osamu would agree. Suna didn’t know for sure, and he never would. He’d done some selfish things in his life, but asking Osamu to leave his home and his brother was too much. Suna wouldn’t do that to him, even if it meant staring down the consequences of his own actions with the same gut-wrenching resolve of staring down the barrel of a revolver. 

Suna would take responsibility for this, all of it. He would tell Kita what he’d done and accept his fate; even if that fate was death, because Suna couldn’t imagine Kita would settle this betrayal for anything less. 

“Hey, Rin?” 

Suna felt Osamu’s voice against his back. It felt like safety and home and Suna wanted it to consume him. “Yeah?”

“When we get back home, you maybe wanna get an apartment together?” Osamu grazed his fingers over Suna’s shoulder and down to his chest, tracing tendrils of ink. “One with a tub like this, if we can find it.”

Osamu thought they would go back to Hyogo together. He still hadn’t realized. Suna hoped he didn’t, not until it was over. 

Suna rested a hand on Osamu’s thigh beneath the water. He closed his eyes and just breathed. “Sure, ‘Samu. Anything you want.”

“I want you,” said Osamu. He moved his hand to trail up and down Suna’s stomach, until Suna caught it and folded their fingers together. “The rest of it don’t matter.”

Suna closed his eyes. He couldn’t cry, not until he left. Osamu would know something was wrong. 

Suna kept the toxic emotions caged in his chest and said, quietly, “Well you have me, ‘Samu.” He squeezed Osamu’s hand. “You have me.”

Even if it was only for tonight.


End file.
